


It’ll Be All Right

by PaulaMcG



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Animagus, F/M, First Time, Flying on a broom, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts, James and Lily are seventeen, Kissing, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Post-Sirius Black's Prank on Severus Snape, Remus and Sirius and Peter discussed, Schoolgirls Alice and Amelia in small roles, Semi-Public Sex, Werewolf Remus Lupin, implied Remus/Sirius - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21746131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulaMcG/pseuds/PaulaMcG
Summary: In March of their sixth year at Hogwarts James has serious secrets to reveal to his new girlfriend.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	It’ll Be All Right

**Author's Note:**

> James and his friends will never help me make any money. This piece can stand on its own, but it also belongs to the same extensive story in my Rowling's-first-five-novels-compliant universe as the rest of my fanfiction.

He told them she would be another Marauder. And he’s turned out to be more right that he dared believe.

Satisfied with himself – and with Lily – James steers his broomstick ever higher. He also knew that staying up on his own after the Quidditch practice would make him feel better again – confident not only about his role in the team but about his closest friends, too. Even triumphant. His speed and the sight of the huge open noon sky over bare spring forests have immediately reminded him of the surprise outing arranged by his girlfriend – a word he still revels in repeating to himself.

Lily has amazed every one of them. She’s been a true Marauder all along. Since the first year. Astonishing! A little Muggle-born girl, hardly twelve, she managed to buy a an authentic flying carpet, an illegal artifact, and she’s kept it in secret all this time.

Why has she now revealed her secret not only to him, but to Pads, Moony and Wormtail as well – taking them all for a foolhardy sunset flight? She did explain it. “So you can decide it’ll be all right that I get to know some secrets of yours.”

Without noticing it James has lost height. Twisting the broom for a sharp turn to the right, he steers it simultaneously upwards again. As the risky manoeuvre makes him jerk his head, his glasses slide down on his nose. The landscape changes into blur in his eyes, and he feels like swearing. Can someone with such a defect in sight ever reach glory in Quidditch? For a moment he doubts it: he’s crazy to believe he will. Not caring to push the glasses up, he starts flying towards the towers of the castle, staring at their unfocused image – yes, approaching all the uncertainties still with a trust that everything will turn out fine. 

She’s so beautiful, gorgeous – and so clever she must have figured out something. Perhaps the next thing she reveals is that she already knows…

Now circling above the school grounds, James hopes to spot his girlfriend somewhere around. When they’re lucky to get such excellent weather on a March Sunday, she must be outside enjoying it. He didn’t expect her to arrive and watch the practice, admiring her boyfriend – yes, that word, too, makes him feel great again and again – but it’s only natural to trust she’s remembered the timing and planned to meet him soon after, perhaps to seem to happen across him.

There she is, at the shore. Even against the sparkling lake, her brilliant hair glows – like a beacon. A warning? No, but perhaps still a challenge, even if after years of chasing he’s no longer turned down.

She challenges him to make an impression without showing off – by doing something valuable. He’d better approach her in a humble or at least casual manner. Having landed quickly, he lifts the broom on his shoulder and actually flattens his wind-swept mop instead of ruffling it up, before starting to walk towards the lake, towards… her welcoming smile, her touch.

His mouth’s spreading to a grin, anticipating and remembering the taste of her lips. But the first kiss was on his chin, and a part of him wants to forget that worse than awkward moment. Why can’t a triumph be perfect! He must return to that memory just because there was such a conflict of emotions, such confusion – when all the concern and fury barely allowed him to register that she came to him just when, for once, he had no mind to seek her attention. That morning when Dumbledore ordered him to be present at the Great Hall and to be declared a hero – while he was sick of worry about Remus and shaking of anger towards Sirius. Of course, she observed him at Gryffindor table; everyone stared at him. But most people just applauded, didn’t realise that he, uncharacteristically, failed to express pride. Just then she was suddenly there, close to him, holding his hand.

He’s drawing near her – and the two girls he’s only now noticed in her company, sitting on either side of her on a flat rock close to the shore, gazing over the water. Her two best friends literally pale beside her. Alice with her blond curls at least looks cute, but Amelia’s more pleasant to listen to than look at – and listening often turns boring: she’s too sensible, lacks imagination.

He’s determined to acknowledge their presence politely enough. “Hello, Lily – Alice, Amelia!”

Yet, he’s got eyes only for Lily. When she turns her head, he’s astonished by new loveliness in her face: an expression of a pleasant surprise.

“Oh, the famous chaser!” Amelia, too, is smiling, and the amusement in her voice doesn’t sound unkind.

But Alice giggles. “Now that you’ve got new fame as a hero, the quaffle is the only thing you need to chase.”

“That’s right.” Just as he’s heard, Lily doesn’t deny the truth in the gossip. “I decided to ask him for a date as he’d turned out to be whom I wanted. Yes, I wanted you, the fresh hero.”

Back then – just a couple of weeks ago – in the Great Hall she asked only, “Do you want me to take you out of here?” And she walked with him all the way to the hospital wing, squeezing his hand. She persuaded Pomfrey to let them in even though Remus was still not conscious. Close to his bed, she went on, whispering, about how fortunate it was that James had arrived and been clever and brave, managed to stop the Willow from hurting Snape, too. Staring at Remus’s bandaged hands, then his white face with unusual wounds across both cheeks, partly healed perhaps – since no longer covered – with such magic which would prevent scarring on select few injuries if applied promptly… he couldn’t focus on logical thoughts, not to mention her. He let go of the hand which had tried to soothe him, hardly comprehending it belonged to the girl she had loved and yearned for since he was twelve.

Now he’s grasping it. And as she responds with a widening smile and just a slightly teasing tilt of her head, then with standing up and taking a step closer, he lets the broom fall and ventures at a hug. Accepted in her tight embrace, he presses his face into the warmth of her hair and barely hears the other girls’ goodbyes.

He still needs the consolation he failed to receive at the hospital wing. He still feels he’s lost the trust in Sirius – lost his brother. He can’t forgive him as easily as Lily expects him to. For over a week Remus has been almost fully recovered physically at least. Nothing else is quite right for the Marauders…

But at the moment it feels completely right to lean against Lily – incredible but right. He moves his mouth to her temple. She pushes back but only a little, so as to lift her face towards his. Her eyes, so close, are a green blur in his. Their lips touch and open, and her tongue is the first to push in.

For a moment he’s still aware of making an effort to perform as well as possible. This must be the best kiss… Not easy at all, as he should control his hands, too. Is it all right to move one up behind her neck, the other down her back? And when his almost painful hard-on presses against her hip, he’s afraid at first that it’ll offend or scare her.

But now there’s only a shiver, shared. A desire that is – astonishingly – hers as well. He can see it in her intense gaze, when she breaks the kiss and the hug, too, only to clasp his hands and to hastily pull him to sit on the ground beside her.

She moves one of his hands onto her breast, then opens the front of her robes a bit. He’s staring at the white skin of her cleavage, just venturing to touch it with his lips – when his other hand’s fingertips are pressed between her thighs, against a soft and moist piece of fabric, with warmth pulsing through. Her hand guides him so firmly to rub, then just press that he knows this is what she wants now, nothing further, not yet.

Just when he almost despairs as he won’t bear it any longer, her hand’s found its way under his robes, too. With the first brush of her fingers on his taut, most sensitive skin he erupts. 

“Wow.” He sighs it against her neck, rocked by the rhythms of her heartbeat and breathing. Amazingly, his coming wasn’t too quick, was it? “So good. We’re so good together, right?” She is incredibly good at this, and he doesn’t want to ask now how it is possible.

After their mouths have touched once more, lightly, they both pull out their wands for casual cleaning charms. James also picks up a book Lily must have dropped.

He can’t take his eyes off Lily’s face. They’ve ended up sitting side by side on the stone, and now the distance is right: he can admire every detail, up to the new freckles on her pretty nose and the dimple which appears on her left cheek when she grins like this – mirroring his grin and stare, so that they’re close to bursting into laughter.

When she glances aside and notices the book, tries to take it back, James opens it – even though he can hardly expect Advanced Charms to contain anything – besides the title – that he could tease her about. On the first page, under her name, she’s written with flourishes: Killer Queen.

“Just the name of a song by a Muggle band,” she explains before he knows if and what he wants to ask.

She’s full of surprises, mysteries – a creature of another world besides his.

“Do you think we know each other well enough?” He’s blurted it out so suddenly because her mysteries and, above all, his secrets have occupied his mind.

But she must think he’s referring to how unexpectedly far she allowed and even encouraged, actually guided him to go. “Well enough for making love like this? Well, you’ve wanted me for years. I’ve loved you for months and seen some changes… Now I trust you.”

Changes? For a moment he thinks she’s seen him change shape. And months? So it’s not all because he saved Remus and Snape, didn’t side with Sirius in his irresponsible act. “Changes?”

“I have to confess I’ve somehow... spied on you. When you thought you were spying on Severus.”

He’s closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. If she’s spied on them, she knows. How can she possibly trust him, if she knows what kind of secrets he’s still not told her about? But the mention of Snape irritates him – and alerts him to realise that she means a specific occasion. “When…?”

“It must have been… our fifth year, a November evening.” She changes position to sit more comfortably, pulls her legs up, wraps her arms around them. “Talking about changes: since that time Severus has changed. Back then he was still miserably shunned by everyone. It really wasn’t ingenious of the Marauders to harass him. I’d met him before we started school and I tried to continue to be friends. You know, he is brilliantly intelligent, and I couldn’t help…”

James has started grinding his teeth, looking away from her, and still manages not to say anything. But she must hear his indignation in his breathing. 

When he glances at her, she’s bent forward, leant her cheek against a knee, her face towards him. “All right, I’ve talked more than enough about him. I’m not in love with him. It’s over.”

That’s hardly reassuring. Worse. He can’t bear thinking about what she means – just breathes hard, looks away.

And she goes on about the slimy bastard. “A year ago older Slytherins started taking interest in him – perhaps first realised he could help them in their Potions NEWT classes. I guess he needed to belong. He became a blood purist and no longer managed civilised conversation. But at the time when I still enjoyed discussing his potion inventions and anything else with him… On that dark evening I regretted having declined a request to help him collect ingredients behind the greenhouses. I wasn’t so terribly busy with homework, after all, and I decided to surprise him. I’d already learnt to Disillusion myself, so when I arrived before him, you didn’t notice me. Yes, you were on the greenhouse roof, whispering, so that I first heard only Remus’s words to you: about a letter forged in my handwriting – so that you could once again humiliate someone you disliked – and then about a secret project...”

James remembers well what he had planned: a shearing hex, which he claimed Snivellus needed in lack of those ingredients, shoots of Yucca Gloriosa for some Dark Arts shampoo – a jibe Remus couldn’t help chuckling at. But what had he and Remus said about the ratty project? Not sure whether Snape was near, they must have used a code name, but still…

“Don’t worry. I still don’t know what the project was. I left quickly, also to warn Severus. But I couldn’t help hearing that you needed to also protect a maiden’s honour. And that the point of the secret project was not to ever insult or make an impression – but to help your friend... to stop hurting so badly?”

The relief: she doesn’t know yet. The nervous joy: the chance to tell her himself. Both suddenly overshadowed by the bittersweetness of remembering what he explained to Remus on that roof: Sirius was the one to work the hardest to help Remus. That’s how Sirius was also the first one to properly succeed, over a year ago. “I… changed later, not before the summer.”

“I know. I’m sure nobody wants to be reminded of what you did to Severus around our OWL exams.”

He must look away, so as to manage not to continue to talk about what she expects. “I’m not the only one who has changed and changes, in more than one way, more than once… I wonder if we can trust anyone. But I’d like to tell you now – and show you.”

Standing up, he feels his pulse quickening. He grabs his broom before he can start to hesitate. “Fly with me! Just a short way along the shore, to the cover of the woods.”

She doesn’t hesitate. She comes behind him, and her hands are steady on either side of his waist. But she must wonder why after recklessly making love here in the open…

“This is illegal. But you’re not going to blame me for the grave breach of law. You’ve already heard the justification. When you were spying, I mean.”

The only response is the pressure of her chest against his back.

“The others have given me the permission to let you know, and so has Remus; I’m not betraying their trust.” He’s flying low over the path on the shore. They could as well have walked, but the touch of the smooth wood of the broomstick boosts his confidence.

After landing among the trees and letting the broom fall, he’s more nervous again. Perhaps to calm himself as much as her, he attempts an ever more reassuring tone. “I don’t want to startle you. You know what McGonagall can do. And be prepared for something bigger.”

He merely glances at her – to register an emerging comprehension in her widening eyes and slightly parted lips, the tension in her whole graceful figure – and takes the few steps to the water’s edge. Now he must focus on the need which changes him. Not what he wants but what is needed. What makes him go on regardless of what he might lose. First fully aware of the dimensions of his body – and astonished at a new blissful certainty of the value in his human shape, acknowledged in her embrace – in order to suddenly give them up, to grow and evolve into what he also is. Staring at the sparkling surface of the lake, he chants his incantation in his mind, bows his head – and raises its heavy crown of antlers effortlessly, in a stag’s natural, unselfconscious movement and with his human pride in the glory of the change.

As he turns to look at her, she, staring at him, is standing so still that he needs to shift his head from side to side in order to see her clearly, and the colours in her hair and eyes have faded. Instead, his new sense of smell makes her more mesmerisingly present than ever before. The scents of her body strengthen further when she moves, strides to him. By the time she boldly reaches out to touch his muzzle, he can’t resist becoming a man.

The red of her mane burns in his eyes again. He parts his lips to lick the tips of her fingers, then grabs her wrist and kisses her palm hungrily.

“It’s not for you I needed to change in that way.” He shouldn’t brag, but she mustn’t think that he masters only transient shapeshifting. “In my best friends’ – my other best friends’ – company I can remain a stag all through the night.”

“For me you needed to change into a man,” she says, and the dimple appears in her left cheek. “In more than one way.” Then she narrows her eyes. “This is a serious secret...”

“It’s Sirius’s secret, too,” he blurts out with a nervous burst of laughter. “And Peter’s. They’re Padfoot and Wormtail.”

“They, too, are Animagi.” She’s not asking a question, hardly waits for his nod. “And Remus...”

Shaking his head slowly, James tries to remember how he’s planned to explain this. “Remus… He tried repeatedly to make us give up the project. It all started four years ago from an observation he made. Animals – and Animagi – would be safe and even... a comfort. We became sure it would make a difference to have an animal form, when we found some kind of confirmation in books – only forbidden books. You know there’s so much prejudice against creatures that are… not simply human. So much prejudice the institutions support: the Ministry and Hogwarts, too.” He’s stepped back to pick up the broom, continues walking around in circles. 

“Yes…” She leans her back against a tree. “And the Marauders have become known to rebel against the rule of inequality. Not only against ideas of blood purity but also against injustice towards part-humans and non-humans. That’s part of the change in you I was talking about. I’ve just wondered why you’ve all gone on denigrating one group, werewolves – to a ridiculous degree. It doesn’t make sense – unless… It’s a joke?”

“A joke for people like you to get. And for hopelessly prejudiced people to be fooled by. We’ve thought our harsh talk about werewolves stops them from suspecting we know one.” His steps have now taken him out of the woods. He turns to see her follow, reaches for her hand to have her so close again that their voices can grow soft. “Dumbledore has ordered us not to tell any truth about werewolves. It’s Dumbledore’s secret: that he brought one to the school.”

“You’re revealing Dumbledore’s secret, but you leave it for me to say that… Remus is… But no, Amelia’s said he isn’t – that she just knows.”

“You’ve talked about it? And what would Amelia know?” He feels confused, even irritated, walks faster.

“A long time ago. And, well, perhaps you didn’t know it, but Amelia was almost his girlfriend – until he and Sirius got that close… Perhaps Amelia figured it out and decided to protect him – even by lying to me, spreading such a view of it.” She frowns. “You must know there’s been talk about it around, mainly in our year and in Gryffindor. Because of his regular absences. But people say he can’t be one himself. The Governors of Hogwarts wouldn’t allow it. And most people believe werewolves are too obviously monstrous, not like him. So perhaps a relative of his is, some say.” 

Now he should stop and face her, make her face the truth. “There’s now more for Dumbledore to hide. That two weeks ago… It’s complicated. This is why I must tell you everything now: so that you understand why I was so angry with Sirius – why I’m still.”

The image of Remus’s clawed face is still fully vivid in his mind. Back then, staring at it, he became aware of her voice only when she said Sirius’s name. “Sirius’s detention must be over. But perhaps Pomfrey lets three visitors...” And that made him hurry away from her, right to the door, to slam his back against it. “I won’t let him in!” That’s when she strode to him, grabbed his shoulders and pressed her lips on his chin. He could barely control the volume of his voice, while he had to control his words – not to contradict Dumbledore’s lies. She had just kissed him, his dream come true, and while she was stroking his arms, he started shouting at Sirius, when he rushed in anyway, with his feeble “Sorry!”

As if a “sorry” could undo what Sirius had done! Just before the surprise flight Remus himself offered that James could let Lily know about it – to know everything. And James thanked him. “After that – if she still wants to – she can try to convince me to forgive him.”

He’s finally standing still, forcing himself to look her in the eye, whispering, “Remus’s wounds were not made by the Whomping Willow. He made them himself: with werewolf claws and teeth.”

She squeezes his hand so tight that he can feel her nails dig in. “His own..?”

“That’s what he does to himself when we aren’t with him.” Now he’s letting some of his mounted despair flow out, pouring it on her. “And this time it was worse than ever because when he was changing he smelled human blood. Sirius tricked Snape to go to him – through the tunnel which leads from the Willow to the Shrieking Shack. He’s got some complex excuses: how he did it to protect the secret, not to expose it. But he endangered everything, everyone: more than one person’s humanity and life… He just acted so irresponsibly that I can’t see him as the same friend – my brother…”

Lily’s arms are around him, but she’s not fully here with him. She’s looking over his shoulder, and she draws a shuddering breath, breathes out a deep sigh. “This is so much… worse than I could imagine. But it is… it will be all right. You’ve done so much good. And perhaps I can do something to help. I want to. I chose you – and I knew that some others came along. If they accept me, I’ll be a Marauder, too. I believe we’ll all still trust each other. I don’t want you to lose your brother – absolutely not to give him up more easily because you’ve got me! If you think that Sirius changed, became more irresponsible… he must have now changed again. We can all talk about it together.”

No matter how much he loves her voice, he can hardly stand listening to her fluent, endless talk. “I’m not sure I care to talk about Sirius or to Sirius any longer. Now there’s something more serious… You know we planned Remus’s coming-of-age party for yesterday. On the day before, on his actual birthday he was away: he had an appointment in London. Werewolf Registry. They confirmed his status – or rather lack of status. Sub-human. He told us yesterday morning and refused to come down to the common room: no reason to celebrate. No… He’s got no wizard status. He says that it should have been clear to him all the time, but he’s hoped... He’s got no hope left.”

Lily starts caressing James’s upper arms soothingly, just like back then when gently, slyly moving him aside from the door of hospital wing. The prick of tears in his eyes resurrects the most embarrassing part of the memory: miraculously she’d kissed him, and instead of kissing her back he cried while ranting about Sirius.

“Perhaps Remus gave you the permission to tell me because he wants me to help you forgive.” There she goes again. At least her words distract him from the memory. “I believe he’s forgiven. I’ve seen him together with Sirius – after the flight we shared… yes, on Friday morning: they looked at each other again in the same way as before. They give hope to each other. We all have hope and love to give, Peter, too – even though he’s also got fears, I’ve seen. We’ll find ways to help. We’ll think of something. Has Remus talked to Dumbledore – I mean, after the Registry visit? We can all do that. I want to say to Dumbledore that I know, too, and I insist that he do everything to help. Next year Remus will do his NEWTs outstandingly and with his Hogwarts certificate he will have a status. In any case he needs us all to support him, together.” 

There’s now an arm behind his back, a hand on his shoulder, and she’s guiding him to continue their walk towards the castle. “I’ve thought about werewolves, about the injustice in the persecution, even about the possibility that Remus… But I never thought that being a werewolf would be more than being feared and mistreated. That it would mean regular, serious hurting and fear of hurting others. I still can’t imagine how hard it really is. How hard it’s been for all of you. No wonder you changed. You’ve known for years… that it’s not just a magic peculiarity. That it’s real.”

“Of course it is.” His breathing is still ragged, his voice at least not exactly tearful. “It’s magic and real. Like any shapeshifting, change – just not voluntary.”

“We accept change. Then it’ll all turn out better.” Her eyes are almost too close to him again, green like the spring of hope – inspiring such a poetic idea in his sensitised head. And she kisses what must be tears on his cheek. But now he kisses her back, full on the mouth, before allowing her to continue, “It’ll turn out fine. All right?” Or is it a question at all?

**Author's Note:**

> Killer Queen is the title of a 1974 hit by Queen.


End file.
